


Friday Afternoon

by abigail89



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-16
Updated: 2011-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 16:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by <a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/abigail89/pic/000cetkf">this image</a> from the semi-weekly Man-on-Man feature at LJ's Jim&Bones comm.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Friday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this image](http://pics.livejournal.com/abigail89/pic/000cetkf) from the semi-weekly Man-on-Man feature at LJ's Jim&Bones comm.

Leo trudged up the fourth flight of stairs. God, it was damn hot in the stairwell. He hoped Jim remembered to buy beer on his way home; it was his turn to shop.

He opened the door to the impossibly small apartment, and was met with the smell of Jim's baked chicken, the kind with the Italian herbs and mozzarella and noodles. It made the crap of the day disappear, just a little. His backpack slid down his right arm and hit the floor with a loud 'whump.'

"That you?" Jim called.

"'course it's me. Who else would come to this shithole?" Leo grumped. He opened the fridge and pulled out a cold can of PBR. _God bless Jim_ , he thought gratefully.

Jim was seated on the bed, nearly nude, his easel nearby. It was the weekend, when Jim put aside his own grueling graduate studies to pursue one of his passions, drawing. The bed, the largest and best thing they owned, took up fully a quarter of the studio. One day, after he finished med school and Jim got his doctorate, they'd get something with a huge bedroom and a fucking elevator. But for now, this place was cheap and near the university and adequate, and NOT on the eighth floor, like Hikaru and Pavel's.

Leo leaned over and kissed the crown of Jim's head, and then his bare shoulder. He stood behind next to the bed and watched as Jim sketched. "Nice," was his assessment.

"Says the guy who hasn't been to the Met since he moved to New York," Jim said.

"Kinda busy." He took a long pull of the beer, and sighed. "Thank God it's Friday."

"You said it, bro." Jim stopped and looked at his creation. "Yeah, that's it, I think."

Leo took off his med school uniform--khakis, button-down, white jacket, loafers--and slipped on thin, tatty sweats. "It's warm for this time of year."

"Hmm," came Jim's response. "Think I made your head too big in this."

Leo pulled a journal from the floor beside the bed and propped it up on the pillow in front of the window, turning the slick pages to where he'd left off reading the night before. "What?" he finally said.

Jim wiped his hands on a rag, and scooted back to curl into Leo's body; Leo rubbed Jim's belly absentmindedly and hummed. Dinner would be ready soon; no time to really start anything. Jim closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of late afternoon and beer and Leo. As he relaxed, Leo held him closer and kissed his cheek. Despite the warmth, he never passed up an opportunity just to _be_ with Jim.

Feeling drowsy, Leo flipped the journal closed and tossed it aside. He lifted his head to shift the pillow for a more comfortable angle and that's when he saw Jim's drawing. Of him. His head wasn't too big; it was perfect.

As Jim drew a deep, sleepy breath, Leo stared at the ceiling, remaining awake to catch the oven timer for dinner, and reviewed in his head everything he needed to accomplish that weekend: study for clinical exam; surgical techinque lab; immunology paper research. _Make love to Jim. Several times_.

That one made him smile.


End file.
